


Not What You Expected?

by castielslovesong



Series: A Pirates Life For Us [4]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bar, Build up, Dean Hates Himself, Destiel - Freeform, Drinking, F/M, I Love Sam, Jobs, M/M, Pirate AU, Pirates, Roadhouse, Sorry Not Sorry, bobbys cool as fuck, sigh, worthlessness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-11
Updated: 2014-01-11
Packaged: 2018-01-08 08:38:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1130544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/castielslovesong/pseuds/castielslovesong
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean and Cas need to have a talk if they are ever going to find Azazel, Alastair or abolish slavery. But since when did anything ever go to plan? Back on dry land, the familiarity of 'home', Dean knows how he feels for Castiel too bad the guy is practically an angel and he is more like a demon.</p><p>Bobby knows what to do. Bobby always knows when it comes to these damn idjits.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not What You Expected?

**Author's Note:**

> Defo getting another one up next Saturday. So this is more build up (sorry) this series has turned out as more of a story, but oh well I'm enjoying myself (:  
> PLEASE FEEDBACK, less notes and no feedback, I'm guessing the last couple of chapter type things weren't as good, and I aim to change that with the upcoming works. This is the last one of build up and on their next adventure, Cas' POV, we are going to see some Dean/Cas action... So please keep reading!
> 
> My question remains the same: do I make it Sabriel as well?
> 
> Your feedback is really helpful so if you have time, pleeeeeaaasseeee feedback (:  
> Much love y'all.
> 
> Peace out bitches -xo

Pacing the deck, Dean regarded his quarters. Cas hadn’t come out yet. He looked to the sky, judging the suns position in relation to the time. Due to the fact that he didn’t really sleep, only passing out when he has had enough to drink or his body gives into exhaustion, it is difficult for Dean to judge when normal people rose.

_Screw it._

Quietly, he knocked on the door. No answer. _Wells that’s it. He’s not up I’ll just-_

“Dean?” A gravelly voice rasped through the door.

“Erh, yeah Cas. Can I come in?”

“Of course.”

Stepping into the room, he saw Cas perched on the side of his bed. His hair was pointing at every angle, the shadow of stubble gracing over his chin and wide blue eyes staring pointedly at him.

“Hey, Cas,” closing the door he took a few more steps into the room; he finally decided to just go sit behind his desk, “I need to talk to you about something.”

“Ok.” Cas’ attention spiked and his sat up higher on the bed. Dean was about to ask him, when his mind diverged right as the words left his mouth.

“Did you sleep in all your clothes?” Mentally slapping himself, Dean bit his lip and averted his gaze from the head tilted stare Cas was aiming at him.

“Is it not custom to? I had no other clothing to wear. Why are you asking me that Dean?”

Sighing, he turned back to Cas and stood up. “Sorry, my mind just sort of jumps sometimes. Anyway, what I really need to talk to you about is... Well, me and Sammy were thinking that we can use your knowledge to track down others that have left Heaven’s Vessel. If we could track them down, we can use the locations we’ve got to possibly end slavery for good.”

For a moment, Castiel only stared. Then his eyes narrowed and, like a dial, his voice dropped threateningly lower, “You want me to go against my family.”

Dean turned back to him, rubbing his hand awkwardly over his neck. “When you say it like that-“

“What?” Castiel flew up and into Dean’s personal space. Closer than two men should be standing, that’s for sure. “When I say it like you want me to disown my brethren and go against everything I have ever believed in? When I say it like you want me to lose my faith and become a _pirate_.”

“Put yourself in my shoes Cas! All those people out there, they depend on me. And your brothers, your so called family, they run about spreading God’s word but completely ignore the injustices beneath their noses. You have probably met some of the bastards selling the slaves! Or at least been to their hideouts.”

Shifting, Cas shook his foot out of one of his shoes. “It would require you to remove them.”

Dean puffed, dubious. “What?”

“In order for me to put myself in your shoes, Dean.” Cas glared.

“It’s just a saying Cas.” He laughed at the situation. “Look. I get it. You believe in God or whatever. But you have the choice to make a difference and sitting on your cloud isn’t helping!”

“I see it all Dean. What is so worth saving? I see nothing but pain here. I see inside you. I see your guilt, your anger, confusion.”

“You don’t know jack shit!”

“If it’s so worth saving, how come you haven’t done more to stop it? Winchester Brothers. You’re pirates Dean; you make more trouble than you stop.”

Neither man moved. Dean didn’t have a good answer to that. Instead, Dean blew the air through his nose and turned his back to Castiel. “You’re right, I’m sorry. You can get off at Tortuga, Ellen can hook you up with whatever you need.”

Not giving a chance for Cas to answer, Dean left the room. He crossed the deck and picked the guitar from its loving place on his ship. Slowly, he climbed the steps to the helm and over to the edge. No one was up yet, they were on the right course; it would be another day tops before they reached land.

The last of his hopes had been dashed. It wasn’t like he had much left. With one hand he hopped the wooden barrier and dropped down onto the ships figurehead. It was an angel, the wings outstretched and yet nestling him in a cocoon. His fingers brushed over the strings and his mother’s voice filtered into his head.

_Angels are watching over you._

Dean scoffed at that. His life had been one long hardship and he was tired, oh man was he tired. Sam was his quartermaster, second in command, but he was the priority of his life. And he had promised, he promised Dad and he promised Sam, that he would look after him. Look how that had worked out.

There was a beautiful woman waiting for Sam to return; what did he have waiting for him? An old coot who was more of a father than John ever was, Ellen, his adoptive mother and a bottle of Jack. The only reason Sam had even set sail with him was because they had a lead on Heaven's Vessel (the righteous dicks boat) which meant they had a lead on either Azazel or Alastair.

He needed to kill Azazel, just out of principle. But he had threatened Sammy and Jess – Dean would never forgive himself if he got Jess just like he got Mom. As for Alastair, that man needed to die too. _God not this._

It was too late. Subconsciously, his fingers played the strings and while his head was in turmoil the song his mother used to sing him sifted through the mess.

“Hey Jude, don't make it bad,  
Take a sad song and make it better,  
Remember to let her into your heart,  
Then you can start to make it better.”

There was no reason for Castiel to want anything to do with Dean. His attraction to the man was just that – Cas needed some rich, churchy girl in his life, he deserved infinitely better than Dean.

Dean was nothing... Worthless. His scars were enough to show that. He has killed many men, has stolen and more; probably done everything in the sin section of the Bible. Castiel was a mercenary, he was pure and noble. And Dean actually asked him to give that up!? So what if his brothers discharged him, he was still a Novak. He still had hope.

Unlike Dean. The darkness encompassed his soul and ate away at anything good left in him.

Eyes closed he inhaled the salt of the sea... Focused on the lapping of waves against the boat. It was enough to cling desperately to the guitar and not let the ocean drag him away.

“Land ahoy!” That was Jo. He would have to face them at some point. Hands grappling over the edge of the wood, he pulled himself from the figurehead back over to where Jo was standing expectantly. He rolled his eyes at her and shouted the order to get the ship ready as they entered the port. All hands were on deck, eager to be back to somewhat familiar land.

The ghost of his thoughts weighed heavy on Dean’s mind as his boot connected with the hard planks of the jetty.

Sam paid Rufus who controlled the port. (He’s an old friend, he wouldn’t tell the guard that pirates were ashore, let alone the Winchesters).

The horde burst through the doors of the ‘Roadhouse’ the bar that Ellen, Jo’s mom, owned.

“Jo, you’re home!” She smiled fondly at her daughter, holding her close. As Dean passed he placed a kiss on her cheek. Leaning over the bar, he grabbed a bottle of rum and went out back. Sam was kissing Jess for all he was worth and the rest of his crew had either begun to get drunk again or had gone to find their own friends in the area.

He completely forgot about Cas until Bobby came out to find him with Cas almost perched on his shoulder.

“Who’s your friend idjit?” Bobby’s gruff voice startled him, confused he turned to see Cas slumped in the doorway over him.

“Castiel... He’s a Novak.”

Bobby grunted. “Well you gunna sit there or report on the job? I don’t send you out for the good of me health you know.”

Standing, he instantly remembered himself. In the back of his mind he was sure he gestured for Cas to follow, that or Cas had presumed to do so anyway. His presence was comforting, none the less.

The house Bobby lived in backed onto the Roadhouse Bar. It was a land ships graveyard, battered vessels and broken boats coming to rest in the space behind the pirate’s favourite watering hole. Inside, he followed Bobby to the living room, slumping onto the sofa surrounded by shelves and shelves of books. Bobby’s desk was dominated by a large map of the eastern coast and spanned across to England, Spain and Africa. Cas busied himself in one of the books when Bobby came back with three glasses.

Pouring as he spoke, he handed the glass to Dean, went to give it to Cas but seeing how engrossed he was, downed it himself.

“Injuries?” The older man asked.

“Nothing serious. Charlie is pretty good at finding safe routes in.” Dean shrugged around the whiskey in his hand.

“How many?”

“By the time we got there, some had been sold. We managed to get 23 out though, so that’s a win.”

Bobby grunted again. “They’re getting smarter about it. We need to find locations of their nests and cut the head off the snake.”

Dean scoffed in response. “Problem is Bobby, the snake has like fifty heads. Unless we can find outside information and gather up more men we’re screwed.”

Huffing, Bobby collapsed into the chair, running his hands over the map and the pins that marked where they had been.

“What about you Novak, got anything you want to share?”

“Don’t bother Bobby.” Bobby raised an eyebrow at the bluntness of Dean and looked between the idjit and the man who had been perched like a damn bird over his shoulder.

“Gabriel.” Cas found his voice. He didn’t want to do this but Dean was right. “He was the first to leave. He is one of my eldest brothers, I don’t know where he went but I am sure it is somewhere along the American coast.”

Dean turned towards him, an untrusting frown playing over his features. But deep blue locked with bright green and everything that needed to be said was conveyed silently between them in one look.

“Alright you idjits, I’ll see what I can find. Until then you want to go on a job?”

The cocky smirk was already on Dean’s face. Downing the last of the harsh brown liquid, he leapt off the sofa. “You know us Bobby, what do you need?”


End file.
